


a clever way to torture someone

by PikaCheeka



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel), DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Yakuza, lots of references to rape and torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:32:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8735005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PikaCheeka/pseuds/PikaCheeka
Summary: They have to reassess their relationship after Trip is held at gunpoint and ordered to rape Virus. As usual, they probably take it too lightly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry to keep spamming the ViTri ship tag here but I love to torture them. Here's a quick little fic based on a scenario I've been tossing around for a while now where for once ViTri get the bad end of a deal and have to figure out what to do thereafter. I will say right now that this is NOT a hurt/comfort fic - there is no fragility and trauma here. ViTri don't work that way, as far as I'm concerned.

 

He glances at Virus once, twice, three times before saying anything, and as he speaks he keeps his eyes on the road and his voice tighter than he'd like it to be. "You okay?"

"Yea," he speaks around the cigarette, hand pressed over his eyes and nose, hunched in the passenger seat with his knees on the dash.

"If I'd known that was gonna..."

"Trip."

He doesn't answer, only flexes his fingers on the steering wheel.

"You had a gun to your head, too," he shrugs, runs his hand up through his hair.

He inhales deeply before sighing, and as he does he catches the older man's scent. Sweat and blood and lingering sex. It'd be better if he lit the cigarette instead of just chewing on it, better if he opened the window, but he does neither, and Trip grinds his teeth as he remembers. Remembers the way Virus had smelled beneath him, the way he writhed and arched against him, the soft gasps and whimpers he'd tried to hold back. "They make you call me?"

"Yea. There were four. Only supposed to be two. I can't fight four, not when they all have guns."

"Thought you sounded funny on the phone. I shoulda been more careful going in but I guess I was..." he doesn't finish. _Worried_. They both know it's what he had been about to say, but it isn't a word they use when referring to one another, and he can feel Virus' eyes boring into him. The same way they had when Trip had been shoved to his knees between the older man's thighs less than an hour ago, when Virus has whispered for him to just hurry up and do what they wanted.

"It's fine," his voice is softer than it was a moment ago.

"Is it?" He doesn't point out that Virus had had tears in his eyes, that he'd clearly been in pain. He remembers calculating his options for less time than he should have before unbuckling his belt, snapping his suspenders off in irritation and loathing. He'd done what he was told far too quickly, and it wasn't just because there was a gun aimed at his head, wasn't just because one of the other men repeatedly shoved him to make sure he was fucking Virus hard enough.

"I've had worse."

Trip chews on that for a moment before responding, considers the gentle lilt in Virus' voice when he shrugged. Another shift in the air between them. "You makin' a comment about your lifestyle or about my prowess?"

Virus surprises him by snorting, taking the soggy cigarette out of his mouth and flicking it at him. "Both."

He feels himself relaxing then, the softness of Virus' voice seeping into his bones and loosening the anger, the tension, the fear. "You want takeout or you just wanna go home?"

"Do you always eat after sex?"

"Usually." He's grateful for the rain tonight, for the trenchcoat thrown on over his clothes that covers his crotch right now, because he wasn't expecting Virus to say that word so soon after what just happened.

"No wonder you weigh so much. You were heavy."

"Hey, asshole. I work out more than you." He doesn't point out that Virus has long been well aware of how much he weighs, has been grabbing his arms and groping his pecs for years, that the flippant comment is clearly him trying to make light of the situation.

Several minutes pass, and for a moment Trip thinks it's over. Perhaps they can just go home and forget that they just fucked and it wasn't consensual and he probably went along too easily. He'll dream about it for a few days and once his clothes go through a wash cycle or two he won't smell his sex anymore, and the dreams will fade. But even before Virus opens his mouth again, he knows it won't happen. "They were gonna do it themselves but they thought it'd be funnier if you did it instead."

"Yea, real funny," he bites the words off as he pulls into the parking lot beneath their penthouse. He knows it shouldn't irritate him this much, knows that to Virus, this probably isn't as big a deal as he feels like it is, but he can't shake the idea that something between them has irrevocably shifted now. He remembers the feeling and taste of the sound Virus had made when he'd come inside of him, remembers the way his face flushed, and sighs again as he opens the car door. No, he won't just forget this and move on, because he'd been having these dreams long before it happened.

\--

It isn't until they're safe in the darkness of the apartment when Virus speaks again, when the door clicks shut behind them and Trip kicks off his boots while Virus slips out of his shoes.

"Want to shower with me?"

Trip doesn't respond immediately. He can still feel Virus' skin against his. Showering together is nothing new. Nights on business trips, in shoddy hotels with one shower and a work schedule too tight to bother taking turns. Their old apartment with one bathroom, them both reveling in their long showers but eager to save on the water bill. "If you want."

"Yea." Virus says it casually enough, and Trip follows him into his bathroom, trying to ignore how he's limping. The older man is shedding his clothes as he walks down the hall, and Trip can see the bruises already forming on his hips and ass, the rawness of the bitemarks on his throat, and the knowledge that he left them there makes something in his gut drop. He can still taste his moans.

"Hey, did they ever even find where you hid the money?"

"Nope. I think they forgot that's why we even met."

"Seriously..."

Virus laughs, kicks his underwear off and stretches, arms over his head and belly tight. "Yea I kept them talking about the cocaine until one of them nailed me. Once I was on the floor they only thought about sex."

"Pathetic." He means it, but he isn't sure he'd think about much else in that situation either. He doesn't ask what happened before he got there. He knows they didn't fuck him but he's pretty sure they did other things. He also knows Virus has a reputation. _I've had worse._

"Very. I'll pick it up and deliver it tomorrow."

"I'll come if you want." He doesn't say, _so this doesn't happen again_.

"That'd be good," he smiles faintly as he slips into the shower, waving his hand to beckon Trip when he hesitates.

He doesn't touch him the whole time, not on purpose anyway, only bumping into him once or twice, to turn the temperature down, to grab the shampoo. He wonders absently how Virus could have felt so soft and helpless beneath him when here, with the water running down his back, his body is nothing but hard edges, muscle and whipcord. It helps somehow, to see Virus whole and naked, to see the blood and come wash off his thighs, to see him smile and sigh as if nothing happened. Maybe he's _too_ matter-of-fact about it though, and maybe he knows exactly what Trip is thinking because he suddenly slows down, hands lingering over the bruises on his hips, and for a moment he spreads his fingers over them as if he were holding himself.

Trip can see the outline of his own hands there, those horribly sexual markings that Virus can't quite cover with his smaller hands, his thin fingers. He grits his teeth again and closes his eyes, because he is unsure if Virus is doing this on purpose and if he is now being tortured in his own way to account for the pain he'd just inflicted on the older man. _His sadism spilling over._ He wonders suddenly if Virus did this on purpose, if he wanted to see Trip naked, when he can't hide any accidental arousal behind big coats and baggy pants. He reaches around him again to turn the water down, still colder, and Virus laughs.

They dress in silence, but Trip notes that the pajamas Virus chose still match his own.

\--

"Movie and takeout delivery?"

"Not from that curry place. They won't deliver anymore after last time."

"That's your fault."

"Don't stand on the couch."

The conversation happens so quickly, so nonchalantly, that Trip is uncertain who spoke what, how they ended up sitting on the couch watching _Gozu_ , a favorite for inexplicable reasons, and waiting for whatever Virus ordered for the two of them, and that is how he knows everything between them is fine again. It is this knowledge that holds him over when Virus speaks next, that keeps him from sucking in his breath and startling.

"It was a clever way to torture someone."

Trip tilts his head towards Virus, indicating he is listening, but he doesn't bother asking. He knows Virus will continue regardless.

"I thought it was a stupid request at first, until I saw your face when they told you to do it. Making someone assault their work partner...it's a good way to compromise their ability to work together, isn't it?" Virus is staring at him now, searching his face, but there is a guardedness in the way he tilts his head down, brings his shoulder up.

They'd let them leave afterwards, which Trip hadn't expected, let him roughly put Virus back together and carry him out. It hadn't even occurred to Trip to go after any of them, because all he was thinking about was getting Virus out, which he feels in retrospect he should be trying to understand. He isn't normally one to miss an opportunity for violence. It was obvious enough why those thugs did it though, why they did what they did and let them walk away after. The two of them were well-protected, and killing them could compromise already-fragile relationships on the turf. Neither one of them were easy targets, but their partnership was. The punks probably figured this would be the easiest way to form a rift between them, to break down the strongest and most-feared pair of enforcers. And Trip had had to admit, when Virus abruptly hit him, kicked himself free of his arms and slid to the floor and irritably checked his pockets before hunching his shoulders and walking to the car alone, that it had been a good plan.

Trip abruptly realizes that Virus is waiting for a response, for once. "I guess. For some people."

"Hm, yea. I think most people."

He knows that the day Virus would admit to being like most people is the day he'd pack up and leave, anyway. Virus is not most people, and he ceaselessly reminds him of that because the next thing out of his mouth makes Trip drop his drink. "Did you just ask how it was..."

"Yea, was it any good?"

It is only then when Trip turns fully to look at him. He's doing it again, acting nonchalant but guarding himself, and it's all too obvious from the pallor of his face and the position of his body that he's uneasy.

"The circumstances sucked."

"You got me, Trip. That's not what I'm asking. Was _I_ good?"

He exhales slowly. There's no easy way to answer this without admitting more than he wants to. With anyone else, he'd think this was just his sadism again, but that vulnerability in his voice is one for Trip and Trip alone. It makes him uneasy, like he wants to close the gap he can now see in Virus. "As good as you could be with guns in our faces."

"I wasn't too slutty? I think I was a little loud."

"You are slutty. What's the big deal? It doesn't bug me." He doesn't ask why Virus cares what he thinks. The answer is obvious enough in his eyes, and it's such a weighty answer that Trip is unsure of how to handle this new knowledge.

"You didn't kiss me. Even when that one guy told you to, you pretended you didn't hear."

"Are you mad about that?"

He instead says, "You were smart not to kiss me. They-"

"Your mouth is disgusting," Trip waves his hand and cuts him off before he can give details. He can imagine. He's imagined it often enough, over the years, heard enough rumors and seen enough blackmail photos, even amateur videos, to put it together.

"I brushed my teeth. Mouthwash, too. Now the beer tastes like shit."

"Virus."

"Hm?"

He closes the distance between them before he can think, kisses him with enough force that Virus opens his mouth immediately, eagerly. The taste of Kirin and cheap mouthwash aside, he is everything that Trip ever fantasized about, soft and sharp and wet all at once. He kisses deeply, pushing back just as roughly, and makes contented humming noises against him. And Trip remembers fucking him, raping him because someone who aimed a gun at him and shoved him down ordered him to, because Virus was handcuffed on the floor in front of him, and because he saw the chance to do what he wanted to for far too long. He remembers how Virus orgasmed first, which had surprised him, how his insides had clenched and spasmed around him, remembers how he'd murmured something in his ear that he hadn't heard properly before he himself had come.

Virus bites his lower lip and rolls it in his teeth gently before leaning back, licking his lips and grinning triumphantly. His eyes are half-closed and heavy-lidded. "Thanks. You're better than I thought you'd be."

And the memories shift then, click into place. "That's what you said earlier."

"Yea. That's why I wanted to know what _you_ thought."

Trip wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and stares. He wants to fix his partner's glasses, crooked from the kiss. "Stop asking that.

"I-"

"I was too stressed. I can't say unless we..." It hits him then, what he had nearly said, what Virus had nearly coaxed out of him.

He has the decency to wait a moment while Trip mulls it over before touching his arm. "Want to do it normal sometime?"

Trip stares at how long and thin his fingers are. He remembers their conversation earlier, and wonders where he begins and Virus ends.

Virus takes his silence for the agreement that it is and continues, his voice soft and low. "I'm too sore tonight but otherwise...anytime you want."


End file.
